Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Trannies & Trumpers Mykel's Post MRR Column no 42

Post MRR Column no 42
Trannies and Trumpers

by Mykel Board

PISSY (& SHITTY) SECTION: I rarely use the ladies'... either at work or in a public place. Usually there's a line... I figure if someone wants to piss in the W, they've got to wait for a stall. In the M, the guys who can use the urinals, do. Stall pissers like me, have more chances.

Tonight is different. I rarely go out on Saturday night... too many tourists... but tonight I'm meeting my pals, Toshi, Pedro and Sven at Harp... the local Irish seafood place... (almost) all boys.

My bladder's three Harp-pints full, I gotta go. There's a line at the Men's... from the door to the bar... no amount of knee holding is gonna take care of me. The Ladies' seems empty...not a surprise since the drinkers here are mostly guys. Why not? I'll be in a stall. Who's gonna know?

A couple quick over-the-shoulder glances and I slip inside. It's empty. Whew! I run for a stall and close the door. There's a crack between the stall door and the frame. From my seated position, I have a full view of the front/sink part of the room. I have other fish to fry.

I sit down (my aim is worsening with age) and let go. While the relief comes over my body, I hear the door open. Footsteps... more than one pair.

I see two women enter, both twenty something... one white, a bit sorority-looking with melon bazooms under a striped black and white sweater... no ass to speak of under her jeans. The other... black, with one of those asses that Christians want to outlaw. She's wearing a CUNY sweatshirt, and pants so tight I feel my good part rise on the toilet.

Let's go!” whispers one of the girls... I can't tell which from my vantage point. I watch... keeping deadly silent in the stall.

Then it starts. The white girl crosses her arms over her chest grabbing the bottom of her sweater. Uncrossing her arms, she pulls the wool over her head.

Double melons... real.. not the never-limp hard shell of implants... but the soft natural fall of Godly endowment. The kind of tits you can slide a sheet of paper beneath... and it'll stay.

Then the black girl... I dunno... there's something about dark skin.. all the way from Mexican-Lite... to African Noir. It's better up close, of course. In my little stall I'm too far away to see those tiny goose bumps... each one like a raised dot on an expensive condom. I imagine it and throb.

The two embrace. I hear the slurp of their kiss. It's like watching a porno movie on girls4girls.com. Then... more-so. Another woman enters. She's a bit older than the embracing ones... Late forties, I'd guess.... with a matronly haircut and the kind of body that shops at Walmart.

In a flash she's naked. They move to one of those three-way kissing triangles... All touch tongues. Then the housewifey one drops to her knees and pushes he face between the black girl's legs.

One by one, more people enter. They strip off and join the orgy.


Of course, none of that happened. I haven't been in a Ladies' Room in a dozen years. My vaginated friends assure me that nothing has changed. You go in, take care of business, wash your hands... maybe adjust your make-up... and leave... not very sexy.

Then what the fuck? What are the women and (mostly?) men worried about when they demand a bathroom closed to transsexuals... or anybody, for that matter? Unless my first fantasy accurately reflects what goes on, why should they care? What do they have to protect from MEN or women in men's bodies? Or anything? There's a stall. You piss privately... occasionally shit... and that's it. Otherwise NOTHING HAPPENS. You're more likely to be raped in an elevator than in a bathroom.

Do you care who sees you wash your hands? I don't even understand why there are separate Men's and Ladies' Rooms in the first place... unless they need to know where to put the urinals.

Even at the urinal, you're facing the other way, Goddamn it!
What possible difference does it make?

SMILEY FACE SECTION: After the last election, my fuck-buddy Barack Obie said, “The sky won't fall. The sun will still rise tomorrow.” But you wouldn't know it from the panic

Trump coughs... he's intentionally spreading TB to help the drug industry. He scratches his earlobe... He's receiving secret messages from Putin about who he should appoint Secretary of State.

It's called The Halo Effect... though for Trump I'd call it The Horns and Tail Effect. It's a psychological principle that says if you like someone... or their ideas... everything they do will be good. Even if you only like their looks, everything will seem better about them.

Among liberals, the halo effect worked for Obama. He was responsible for thousands of foreign drone deaths. He bombed a Doctors Without Borders hospital. Killed a US hostage. Deported more people than any two presidents before him. Tried to push through the awful TPP, letting a business council decide American environmental and labor laws. He jailed more whistle-blowers than all previous presidents combined. If Donald Trump had done all that, there'd be marches in the street. There are marches in the street anyway.

But Obama has a nice face. He's a colored guy. He has a soft, intellectual voice. That's a huge Halo.

Donald Trump is ugly... as belligerent as a punk rocker... and as abrasive. No matter what he does, it's EVIL. Negotiate lower drug prices using the buying power of the government? It's a trick. Convince companies to stay in America? It's just propaganda. They were gonna stay anyway. No matter what he does... it's EVIL... because... well... because he's Donald Trump.

So Donny T's taking the limo home from a hard day supervising wall-building.

“Driver,” he says, “take me to the colored neighborhood. I wanna see how those people live.”

We don't say colored anymore,” says the driver, turning the limo South.

I'm the fuckin' President,” says Donald. “I can say what I like.”

The exchange ends there. In front of them is an old Washington wooden house, with a front porch... on fire. Big leaping flames... hotter than a tranny's thigh... right there in front of them.

Stop the car, NOW!” shouts the president. BANG! He's out of there, racing into the burning building.

“What the fuck?” asks the driver frantically searching for a place to park. He's supposed to protect this guy, but the heat from the fire is too much for him to enter into the building.

He calls a special number and before long sirens ring in the distance. In what seems like hours, but is probably only a few minutes, a figure appears at the door of the burning house. It's the President. In each of his arms is a small child, faces covered with ash. The president's blond locks are singed. His red face is even redder. Blisters appear.

The next day Facebook liberals tell each other that Trump's own staff set the fire so he could profit from the publicity.

Trump can't win. There's nothing he can say or do that's right for those in the grip of the Horns and Tail Effect. After the fire, they hate the president even more because “he'd risk the lives of children, just to get some good press.”

Anyone who says, the guy might have an ounce of compassion is suddenly “a Donald Trump supporter.”

BACK TO REALITY: You can't even joke about Trump... unless the jokes you're telling are anti-Trump. Make fun of Obama, criticize Clinton... and you're a Nazi. The Halo effect makes every other view a danger... They warn: Don't take the risk!

“Listen,” they'll tell you, “Trump's an unqualified bad guy... stupid... insane!”

It's the Horns and Tail effect. You want to stay safe. (I already was unfriended
® by a long-term real-life friend because I said that Donald Trump had not yet started a nuclear war. Really!) So you agree, laugh at the guy. Fifteen years ago he made a joke about pussy grabbing... grab that line! Run with it.

Look at the TV liberals: Bill Maher, Stephen Colbert. What is their humor? Anti-Trump jokes. In those circles, being anti-Trump is as safe as being anti-Hitler.

Sorry buckaroos. As my condom supplier knows (I don't have one), I never play safe.


ENDNOTES: [You can contact me by email at god@mykelboard.com. Through the post office: send those... er... private DVDs..or music or zines... or anything else (legal only!) to: Mykel Board, POB 137, New York, NY 10012-0003. If you like my writing, you can be notified when anything new is available by subscribing to the MYKEL'S READERS Yahoo group readmboard-subscribe@yahoogroups.com]

-->A Wet One Dept: Former Navy SEAL Carl Higbie told Fox News that torture isn't so bad.
"Well, I can tell you, NOT waterboarding didn't get us the information. So why not give it a shot."
Donny seems to agree, but that doesn't surprise me. I've heard he's a fan of watersporting anyway.

-->Girls vs God dept: During a basketball game between a heavily Jewish Boston-area public school, and a visiting all-boys Catholic school, the Jews taunted the Catholics by shouting, "Where are your girls?"
The Catholics shouted back, "You killed Jesus!"

-->Side effects dept: Tylenol, already marked because of a cyanide scandal last century, has since been shown to cause severe liver damage... and the latest report shows that the drug "dulls empathy." That means, if you take Tylenol, you're less likely to give a buck to that homeless guy sitting freezing on his cardboard box.
My question: Why hasn't there been a study about capitalism? I'm sure it will find an even strong correlation between it and lack of empathy. Take Ayn Rand.... please!

-->It had to happen dept: The city of Toronto had to cancel a public meeting on accessible housing for the disabled. Why? You guessed it. The building where the meeting was held was not accessible to the disabled.

-->Public Transportation Dept: Pastor Tim Jones of Resurrection Baptist Church in Kannapolis NC offered voters a ride to the polls in the last presidential election.
"The only stipulation is you vote against abortion, corruption, excessive gun control, Obamacare and career political criminals. Otherwise, you will have to take a cab! Our church is NOT ashamed to stand up and support Donald Trump!"

-->Xmas cheer dept: A man visiting Six Flags over Texas was asked to leave because he looked too much like Santa Claus.
WALB News reports that when parents saw this guy with a white beard and long hair,they asked him to pose with their kids. He did, and park officials kicked him out for... er... interacting with children.
Hmmm, we wouldn't want Santa interacting with children would we?

-->Show some respect dept: Indian police have arrested at least 20 people for not standing during the national anthem at a movie theater. Says a NY times article:
The arrests were the first known efforts by the police to enforce compliance with the Supreme Court ruling, which requires movie theaters to play the national anthem before each screening. Patrons, according to the ruling, are required to stand respectfully for the duration of the song unless they are physically unable.
The court said it was necessary that “the citizens of the country realize that they live in a nation and are duty bound to show respect to the national anthem.” The Constitution, it continued, “does not allow any different notion, or the perception of individual rights.”
Seems like football fans in the US also are not very big on "different notion of perception of individual rights," when players express THEIR disagreement by not standing during OUR national anthem.

--> Keeping the Pressure on Dept: I want to thank reader George Metesky for suggesting a continuing Bring Back Mykel effort directed at Maximum Rock'n'Roll for censoring me.
As their revolving editrixes move on to commercial ventures, each blames her predecessors for my demise... as if they had no control over the business... and couldn't simply invite me back.
Send your comments to mrr@maximumrocknroll.com (or post on their facebook page) with the subject line: BRING BACK MYKEL! Let me know how they answer.

See you in hell.


NOTE: If you're interested in my travel blog, you can read it at mykelsdiary.blogspot.com. (It hasn't been updated in awhile, but you might enjoy the history.)

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